Rocks flying, blood, pain.
“I don't remember.” She arched her back to ease the stiffness. She must have been curled in that fetal position for hours. Or maybe not. How long did a dream last? “Is everything okay?”
“No problems. The security team is sharp. I just have to remind them to keep sharp. Boredom is our worst enemy.” He was frowning. “You don't have to be afraid.”
“Of course I do. I'd be an idiot not to be afraid.”
“Scared enough for it to give you nightmares?”
“Everyone has bad dreams.”
“Not about blood.” He paused. “And not about Cira.”
She stiffened. “I take it I was doing more than whimpering. What did I say?”
“I couldn't make out very much. I think you said, ‘Watch out, Cira. Rocks. Too late.' When you woke, you were talking to someone named Antonio.” He gazed directly into her eyes. “And, if you know what I'm talking about, then you do remember that nightmare.”
“And you should have waked me right away and not eavesdropped.”
“You have to admit that it's natural that my attention should be caught by Cira's name.”
“I don't care if it's natural. You shouldn't have eavesdropped.”
“Granted.” He was silent. “What were you dreaming?”
She looked away from him. “What you'd expect me to dream since you told me about her. Tunnels. A volcano erupting. A woman running for her life.”
“Is this the first time you dreamed about her?”
“No.”
“When did it start?”
“None of your business.” She rose to her feet and picked up her laptop. “We've let you inveigle yourself into our lives, but keep your hands off my dreams, Trevor.”
“If I can.”
“What the devil is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I'm having trouble not being drawn into every aspect of your life. Believe me, I've tried to keep my distance. It's not working.”
“Try harder.” She took a step toward the door. “I don't need you to confide in. I have Eve and Joe. If I want to talk about Cira or anything else, it will be with them.”
He held up his hand in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I hear you.” He stood looking at her as she opened the screen door. “If you change your mind . . .”
“I won't. Why should I?”
“Curiosity.” He smiled faintly. “Did it ever occur to you that you're not the only one who dreams of Cira?”
Her gaze flew to his face. “What?”
“Why the surprise? She seems to dominate all of us. I started dreaming about her years ago after I read those scrolls.”
She moistened her lips. “What . . . kind of dreams?”
He shook his head and said softly, “You tell me your dreams, I'll tell you mine.”
“And you'll probably make up yours.”
He chuckled. “O ye of little faith.” He started down the steps. “If you decide you want to talk, you know where I'll be.”
“I won't want to talk. I don't care about your blasted dreams.” She slammed the screen door behind her.
But she did care, dammit. He had known that little alluring tidbit would intrigue her. Someone else who dreamed of Cira?
If it was the truth.
And she wasn't about to lay herself open to possible ridicule just to satisfy his curiosity.
And her own curiosity, blast his soul.
Dahlonega, Georgia
Three days later
Eve Duncan.
Joe Quinn.
Mark Trevor.
Aldo closed the lid of the laptop computer and leaned back with a sigh of contentment as he stared at the printout. He knew enough now to launch the plan into action. What a pity Cira's enemies had not had access to the Internet. Information would have been a formidable weapon to bring her down. She had been soft in many ways. About that bodyguard she had saved from execution. About the street child she had taken into her home. All Julius would have had to do was to find her weak spot and capitalize on it to kill the bitch. And information was always the key.
Maybe Julius had killed her. But if he had killed her, he hadn't prevented her from remaining a presence, able to torment and destroy. He should have wiped her from the face of the earth.
As he would do.
He'd cleared the path to Jane MacGuire as much as he could. Now he would reconnoiter, find out the obstacles, and then he'd be ready to move with all due ritual.
He smiled as he looked at the suitcase across the motel room.
Green fire. Lovely deadly fire.
Are you waiting for me, Cira?
Mail,” Trevor announced as he came up the steps. “Bills, a postcard from Eve's mother from Yellowstone. Two FedEx boxes. One for Eve and one for you.”
“I hope you enjoyed the postcard.” Jane set aside the computer. “You're learning a little too much about us.”
“There can't ever be too much.” He smiled. “And I didn't read the postcard, just the signature. Eve's package is from a university in Michigan. Your package is from a Mail Boxes Unlimited in Carmel, California. Do you know anyone in Carmel?”
She nodded. “Sarah Logan. She and John live on the Seventeen Mile Strip. She gave me Toby.”
“So of course she's a very good friend, indeed. Come on inside and we'll open the packages.”
“I can open mine here.”
“No, you can't. You don't open anything. I checked the box out and it seemed okay but you can never tell.”
“What?” she lifted her brows. “No bomb? No anthrax?”
“Not funny. As a matter of fact, I had Quinn get me a portable scanner to detect the presence of a bomb.”
“Why? A bomb is a modern weapon of destruction. They didn't have them in Herculaneum.”
“Right. But a volcano explodes and so does a bomb. It's a very tenuous linking but I'm not taking any chances. As for anthrax, I don't think so. But he may have found some other volcano-related powder, that's why I'm opening it.” He opened the door. “Coming?”
She rose to her feet. “It's not unusual for Sarah to send me presents. She has to travel all over the world and she picks up toys for Toby and little surprises for me and Eve.”
“Nice lady. Let's see what she sent this time.”
He was holding the door open for her and it was clear he wasn't going to give her the package. She shrugged and preceded him into the house. “I won't argue. But you said yourself that you thought Aldo would want a close kill.”
“I'm not the one who'd bear the consequences if I was wrong.” He smiled at Eve, who was working on a reconstruction in her studio across the room. “Mail, Eve. Your mother is enjoying Yellowstone.”
“You said you didn't read her postcard,” Jane said dryly.
“I didn't. From what I understand, everyone enjoys Yellowstone. I must go sometime. Where do you want your mail, Eve?”
“On the coffee table.” She held up her clay-coated hands. “If I handled it now, I'd mess it up and wouldn't be able to read it.”
“How's the reconstruction going?”
“Pretty good. I've done the measuring and I'm starting the molding. But I never know until the final stages.”
“That's what you told me.” He began to separate Eve's mail on the coffee table. “Interesting stuff . . .”
Jane gazed at the two of them in bewilderment. She hadn't realized until this moment how at ease they'd become with each other during these last days. She'd seen him talking to Eve on occasion and even having a cup of coffee with her when she'd taken a carafe down to Bartlett, but Eve seemed perfectly accepting of Trevor now.
Eve turned back to the pedestal. “Did Jane get anything?”
“A package. She thinks it's from Sarah Logan.”
“Again? She just sent her a leash from Morocco a few weeks ago. . . .” Her hands were moving, sculpting, and her tone was absent. A moment later Jane knew she was completely absorbed in the work and no longer w
ith them.
“Where's Quinn?” Trevor asked as he finished stacking the bills.
“At the precinct. Christy set up a conference call with Scotland Yard and the Rome police to discuss Aldo.” Jane gave him a cool look as she sat down on the couch. “And the local Italian police have found no trace of any tunnel in the countryside outside of Herculaneum. And no villa belonging to a Julius Precebio.”
“I told you they wouldn't find it.”
“Because you did your best to hide it. When this is over, you're going to have a lot of questions to answer.”
“Hmm.” Trevor was tearing the strip on the FedEx box. “I'm duly intimidated.”
She scowled. “You are not.”
“No, but I'd hate to disappoint you.” His smile faded as he opened the lid. “There's another package inside.” He moved away from the couch on which she was sitting to the screen door. “It's small, velvet, and doesn't look like it would contain a dog toy for Toby. I think I'll just open this on the porch.”
She tensed in spite of herself. “Stop it. Aren't you overreacting?”
“Perhaps.” He looked in the FedEx box. “No note.”
“Maybe it's in the velvet box.”
“Possibly.” He dropped the FedEx box and slowly opened the blue velvet box.
“What is it?”
“A ring.”
“Jewelry?” Relief surged through her as she jumped to her feet and followed him across the room. “Let me see it.”
“In a minute.” He was holding the ring up to the light.
“Now.” The ring was a broad band of intricately carved gold and the stone it held was a brilliant pale green, too pale to be an emerald, probably a peridot. “Do you think Sarah would send me a Borgia poison ring or something?”
“No.” He held the ring away from her. “But I don't believe this ring is from Sarah. Why don't you call her while I look it over?”
Her gaze shifted from the ring to his face and what she saw there made her eyes widen. “Why?”
“Call her,” he repeated. “If it's from her, it will give you the opportunity to thank her. I'll stay here and wait for you.”
She hesitated, tempted to refuse and confront him. Then she went inside, picked up her phone, and dialed Sarah in Carmel.
Trevor was standing underneath the porch light when she came out of the house five minutes later.
“She didn't send it,” Jane said flatly. “She didn't know anything about it. Aldo?”
He nodded. “My guess.”
“Why would he send me a ring? That's a peridot, isn't it?”
“I don't think so. It's similar and most people would mistake it for a peridot.”
“Then what is it?”
“It's a vesuvianite.”
“What the devil is that?”
“When a volcano erupts the tephra sometimes forms a glasslike substance that can be polished and refined to resemble fine gems. You may have seen helenite, the dark green stone that became popular after the Mount Saint Helens eruption.”
“But this came from Vesuvius?” Her gaze was fastened in sick fascination on the ring in his hand. “I was joking, but could it be some kind of poison ring?”
He shook his head. “I examined it. It's exactly what it appears. He obviously didn't mean to kill you.”
“It's beautiful. . . . Why would he want to give me something this beautiful?”
“How does it make you feel?”
“Angry, confused.”
“And afraid?”
Was there fear at the core of her emotions? She only knew she felt chilled and shaken. “It's only a piece of jewelry.”
“That's disturbing the hell out of you.”
“And that's what he wanted. He wants me scared and panicked.” She reached out and touched the gold of the ring. It was warm from Trevor's touch but it didn't pierce the chill surrounding her. “And he wants me to know he's not forgotten me.”
Trevor nodded. “It's a mind game.”
“Bastard.”
“If he knows he can't touch you yet, it will probably get worse. A little long-distance torment will be very satisfying to him.”
“Do you think he's watching me?”
He shrugged. “Not from anywhere close. I'd guarantee that, Jane.”
“And I can guarantee he'll want to see if sending me this . . . thing made a sniveling wreck of me. What kind of satisfaction can he get just from imagining the upset?” She could feel her anger growing by the minute. “Oh, no, he'll want to see that he's hurt me.”
“Possibly.”
“No, certainly.” She snatched the ring from his palm and jammed it on her index finger. “So let's let him see it doesn't mean a damn thing to me.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “I should have known. Aldo may have been carrying this bauble around for years but don't you think Quinn will want the ring to try to run a tracer?”
“He can take a photo.” The ring felt heavy and tight on her finger, like a python curling around its victim. But she wasn't a victim and she'd prove it to him. Her anger remained but it was now mixed with exhilaration and excitement. “I'm wearing it.”
His smile faded. “You're liking this a little too much. What do you have in mind? A little goading to stir the tiger?”
“He's not a tiger, he's a slug. And what do you care if I goad him? It might bring him out into the open.”
He was silent a moment. “You're right. It might do that, if he doesn't pounce and tear you to bits.” He started down the porch steps. “And, strangely enough, I would care if that happened.”
“But you're not trying to talk me out of it.”
“No, but then I've always been a son of a bitch. Do what you like. I'll be there for you.”
Sarah just called me.” Eve had left her studio and was standing in the living room when Jane walked into the cottage a moment later. “She was concerned. She said you didn't sound like yourself. What's this about a ring, Jane?”
Jane held up her hand with a hint of bravado. “A present from Aldo. A vesuvianite. Pretty, isn't it?”
Eve stiffened. “Don't be flip. What's happening?”
“So much for him forgetting about me and going on to bigger and better kills.”
“Sarah said it was mailed from a Mail Boxes Unlimited in Carmel.”
“He's not in California. He'd want to see if the ring had the right effect.” Her lips tightened. “He probably hopes I'm cowering under the bed.”
“You seem very certain.” Eve crossed the room and took her hand. “It looks Byzantine.”
“I'm sure it's supposed to look Roman. But what can you expect? He probably took what he could get. Vesuvianite can't be that readily available.”
“Then it should be easier to trace. Take it off.”
“No.”
“Jane.”
“No.” She pulled her hand away. “I'm wearing it. He's not going to think he's scared me. I'll wear it and I'll flaunt it as if it were only a pretty bauble a lover had given me.”
“Lover?”
“That's what Cira would do.” She smiled recklessly. “He thinks I'm Cira? Well, I'll act like Cira. She'd never let a murdering bastard make her cringe. She'd face him and taunt him and find a way to bring him down.”
“Would she?” Eve's gaze was narrowed on her face. “And how do you know that, Jane?”
“That's how Trevor describes her.” Jane shook her head. “No, I won't lie to you. I feel it.”
Eve was silent a moment. “Or did you dream it? You never told me the name of the woman in your dream. Was it Cira?”
Smart, savvy Eve. She should have known that the empathy between them was so intense that she'd sense what was going on in Jane's mind. “Yes.” She rushed on, “But that isn't— For all I know, I'm picking up Aldo's view of her or maybe Trevor's. It could be I read something sometime and I just don't remember doing it. Or maybe I am having psychic flashes. It's not likely, but I'd rather think that than that I'm
nutty enough to believe I know Cira because of a dream.”
“I think you're protesting too much,” Eve said. “You don't have to make explanations to me. I thought we'd settled that issue.” She glanced down at the ring again. “Take it off.”
“I told you that—”
“I know what you told me,” Eve said curtly. “And I know it's waving a red cape at a bull. Take it off.”
“He'll think I'm afraid.”
“I don't care.”
“I care.” She could feel her throat tighten as she looked at Eve. Lord, this was hard. “I love you, Eve. I never want to do anything that will make you unhappy.”
“Then take it off.”
She shook her head. “You're wrong. We can't give in to him. I might even be able to draw him out and into making a mistake if I annoy him enough. Otherwise, if I take one step back, he'll take one step forward. And I won't be backed into a corner where he can hack my face off.” She saw Eve flinch and she hurried on, “I'm sorry. But that's what he wants. He wants me scared and on my knees. We can't give him that.”
“I'm not going to give him you either. Why don't—” Eve closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I'm wasting my time.” She opened her eyes and added wearily, “And maybe you're right. I don't know. But I do know if you're going to wave that ring under Aldo's nose we're going to make sure that you're as safe as you can be.” She headed for the phone. “I'm calling Joe. Take that ring off, get the digital camera, and take pictures of it so that he can try to locate who sold it to Aldo.”
“Eve—”
“I'm not angry with you.” Eve picked up the phone. “I'm just tired and frustrated and I want this maniac caught before he drives all of us crazy.” She smiled. “And, no, I'm not saying you're crazy. Obstinate, opinionated, yes. Now go take those photos.”
TWELVE
You're wrong, Jane,” Joe said curtly. “You're playing his game.”
“No, I'd be playing his game if I hid the ring away.” She met his gaze. “And you know it. You just don't want me to take chances. There's an opportunity here. If I was anyone else, you'd admit it.” She held out her hand. “Do you think I want to wear it? It makes me sick to my stomach. But it's the right thing to do.” She tossed the packet of photos down on the coffee table in front of him. “There are enough photos to start a search for the seller. Trevor said that he may have gotten the ring in Italy years ago.”
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